


Lucky to have been where we have been (Lucky to be coming home again )

by Waistcoat35



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cute, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, He just wants his wild venison from the minimart, He just wants to be able to English good, I've only seen 2 movies with Thor in, M/M, Poor Bruce, Poor Thor, Ragnarok and Avengers 1, Same with Bruce, Sickfic, Soup, forgive OOC-ness, please, so please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 01:37:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16170944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waistcoat35/pseuds/Waistcoat35
Summary: Bruce is sick. Thor is trying his best. The two make for an endearing situation.





	Lucky to have been where we have been (Lucky to be coming home again )

**Author's Note:**

> I am ill. I cannot English when I am ill. Please forgive me.

He muffles another sneeze in the crook of his elbow, internally cringing at the thought of what it must be doing to his favourite purple sweater. The cold has persisted for a day or so already, creeping up on him as much as a late night into his schedule, a shower into a rainstorm, March into April. But he’s so close on this project – just one more afternoon, maybe the evening, and he’ll have it done with and he can rest. Just a little long-

He jumps, blinking rapidly as a mug is set on the table; even the small clunking noise it makes manages to startle him. He stares at it for a moment or two as if trying to comprehend what it is, before turning slightly in his chair to find a beaming Thor looking down at him. His sleep and coffee-deprived brain eventually kicks into gear enough to grind out a weak greeting, which the taller man returns with an enthusiasm that would be infectious at any other time.

“Banner, I have brought you nourishment!” He resists the urge to snicker into one hand. The formality of the phrase would sound ridiculous coming from anybody else, but Thor manages to make it sound so _fond_. It drives him mad. Honest.

The mug is pushed closer to him, and he tries to suppress a pleased little smile when he realises – it’s his stupid Christmas joke mug, a gift from Tony that reads ‘ _Think like a proton – stay positive. Or become like gamma rays – cut through heavy metal and kill people. It’s your choice.’_

(Thor had knocked it off the desk several weeks ago, and despite Bruce’s assurances that it was alright, he’d been distraught enough that he’d disappeared for three days and returned with the mug all fixed. Upon enquiry, he claimed to have fixed it with _Asgardian magic_  - however, the smears of glue poking out between the fault lines beg to differ.)

There is a creamy, liquid-y substance in the mug – which is miraculously still holding together – which he thinks may be soup. Whatever it is, it smells good, and he gives a low hum. “Thanks, bud.”

Thor watches eagerly as he takes a sip. “I procured the ingredients from the Superior Market down the street. Regrettably, they do not stock spear-caught wild venison – so I had to use chicken.” He should probably mention that there isn’t a place in the city where Thor _will_ be able to buy such a thing – but who is he to crush his partner’s dreams?

“Well, it’s certainly a godsend – ” he stops momentarily and groans at the pun, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling he gets when it makes Thor laugh. “Okay, _okay_ , yeah, that was bad. But – yeah. The soup’s – soup’s good.” Wow. Seven PhDs and none of them are for talking in an eloquent manner. Shame.

But Thor knows what he means. He always knows what he means. It’s – romantic? Scary? Something like that. Ill brain can’t think. Ugh. Maybe he should –

“…take a break?” Bruce zones back in to catch the tail-end of Thor’s sentence, and it has a worrying similarity to the one he was just thinking. Yep, it’s definitely more scary when he does that.

He chews his lip for a moment, before looking at the screen – half the words are now near incomprehensible to him, and so he decides it may be time to admit defeat. He hoists himself up from his chair, managing to trip over one of the wheels and topple into his partner’s chest. Both an embarrassment and a blessing – somewhat like Thor himself.


End file.
